


Come Out On Top

by AvrielleRogue



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Premature Ejaculation, Sex, Sexual Tension, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvrielleRogue/pseuds/AvrielleRogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair is willing to try anything to spice up his vanilla love life with his Warden, so he seeks advice from Zevran. DA kmeme prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Out On Top

_No, no, no._  Alistair willed a surge of control throughout his body, even though he knew it was futile.  _The Grand Cleric naked. Sten naked. Jousting matches…with their jabbing and thrusting, sliding lances perfectly through tight practice rings._

Alistair seized Maia’s tiny shoulders beneath him, about to lose it. With a guttural grunt, he shuddered, spilling his release inside her. Stars burst behind his eyelids. He blinked hard and shook his head as if to clear it from post-coital ecstasy before dropping into the curve of her neck in defeat.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I don’t think I can ever be sorry enough.”

“Please don’t. It felt so good!” Maia gently pushed him back to meet his defeated eyes with her own. “I’ve always… It takes me ages even when I’m, um, by myself. Your Warden stamina is still the best I’ve ever had. Erm, not that I’ve…  _had_  so many…”

Her face blanched, and Alistair couldn’t help grinning like an idiot even through his guilt. She looked so exquisitely beautiful in the dim lantern light of their tent.

“Can I…?” he started. “Should I…?”

“I can, um, finish up. You don’t have to stay if you don’t —”

“I insist, my lady,” Alistair dipped his head, hoping to seem very regal, before deciding he probably sounded ridiculous. The twinkle in Maia’s eye broke his noble front into a sappy smile. “Besides, I love kissing you while you… finish.”

Maia sighed happily and went to work while Alistair wrapped a strong arm around her frame.  _I just wish I were the one actually making you finish._

oOoOoOo

Alistair emerged from the tent once Maia had fallen asleep, the cool air refreshing his flushed skin. It had gotten pretty stifling in that tent after —  _Maker, had it been three hours?_  He rushed to the campfire to find Zevran whittling away a chunk of wood with an odd smile on his face. The elf always seemed to have an odd smile on his face these past few weeks.

“Maker, I didn’t realize how late it was,” Alistair was far enough away from the tents not to have to whisper. “I’ll take half your watch tomorrow night.”

“And leave our Warden to fall asleep cold and alone? I’ll not allow that. Although an extra sovereign the next time we past the Gnawed Noble would surely soften the blow…”

Alistair felt his cheeks redden.

“You heard that, did you?”

“ _Amore_  is music to my ears, my dear Alistair,” Zevran grinned wide. “Although — and it is none of my business, but if I may —”

“No…” Alistair dipped his head in shame and slumped next to the assassin. “No more roots to chew. I’ve tried everything.”

Zevran chuckled low in his throat, which would have irritated Alistair on any other day. Now he just felt defeated.

“If you promise not to run me through with your blade out of some chivalrous duty, I was going to say, it doesn’t seem the fault is yours.”

Alistair raised an eyebrow. True, he  _didn’t_  like the elf criticising his lover’s prowess, but at this point, he was open to recommendations. Even chaste Chantry boys had heard stories of the sexual aptitude of Antivans. Still, it didn’t soften the blow that Alistair couldn’t satisfy the woman he’d been dreaming about from the moment he’d met her.

Alistair scoffed. “I’m sure  _you’d_  never take that for an answer.”

This made Zevran laugh out loud. “Ah, you know me too well. I’d have her mewling for more within a quarter hour.” Catching an unconscious twitch in Alistair’s eye, the elf cleared his throat quickly. “But we are not talking about me. If I may be so bold — how to put it? What is your… stance?”

“My stance?”

“You Fereldans are so shy and reserved. You are like the vanilla rolls sold in every shop in Denerim, but there is so much more. Smooth caramel, spicy rich chocolate, sour lemon tarts that hurt so good.”

“Am I supposed to be hungry now? Because I am.”

“Hungry for _el amor de tu vida_ , Alistair! Let me guess. During your lovemaking, our Warden stays on her back, yes? With you atop her?”

The flush was now threatening to creep from his cheeks down his neck, but Alistair gulped it down and nodded.

“I will not scandalize you further by recommending  _my_  favorite position, but might I recommend allowing the Warden to control the rhythm from atop you?”

Alistair’s jaw dropped, and it wasn’t the only thing. He could feel blood rushing southward, and he repositioned himself hastily, thanking (and cursing) the Maker for tight britches. He’d honestly never considered such a thing.

He suddenly felt like he was back at the Chantry with the older boys laughing at his ignorance. Thankfully, Zevran kept his eyes on the stick of wood he was slicing, his bemused expression never changing.

Would she even be interested? He’d always thought she liked his… strength over her, but at this point, he was willing to try anything.

oOoOoOo

A trek to the Brecilian Forest had taken Maia from Alistair for a week, and she had diplomatically brought along Leliana, Morrigan, and her pup so as not to anger the wandering Dalish with a cavalcade of warriors.

Upon their return, Alistair cooked up the day’s hunting before the sun had even set, eager to get everyone to their respective tents early. Implementing Zevran’s suggestion had been all Alistair could think about while Maia was gone, and he fidgeted with nervous energy, wordlessly urging everyone to finish their meals. After a meandering and pointless story from Oghren, the party retreated to their respective tents.

Alistair nearly tripped over himself in his haste to join his lover’s side. He could swear he heard Zevran’s low chuckle but quickly dismissed it as he pulled back the flap of canvas to find Maia eagerly awaiting him.

She was spread out before him on her bedroll, poured into a shimmering silk gown that looked entirely too delicate for sleeping in. Oh. Yes, that would probably be the point.

“I give the Dalish too little credit,” he said, gaping at her. Her tinkling laugh sent shivers up her spine.

“We ran into a merchant with some Orlesian goods. Leliana just about spent all the coin we had, so I wanted to treat myself to at least one frivolity.” She smiled demurely. “Do you like it?”

“You look unbelievable.” Try as he might to keep his eyes focused on the covered areas, he couldn’t help but peek at the hints of flesh beneath the delicate lace around the top curves of her breasts, the tug of fabric taut between her legs. He gulped and closed his mouth into a goofy half smile as he joined her side, eyes alight with wonder. He simply had to feel her.

He began running calloused hands up her soft legs, tucking a thumb underneath the lower hem and hitching it ever so slightly up her thigh as she shivered beneath him.

“It’s almost a shame,” he said, drinking in the sight of her. “The more beautiful you look in everything you wear, the more I long to see you out of it.”

The way Maia strained against her blush as she leaned in to kiss him, flattered and confident, seductive and shy, made Alistair’s heart rise in his chest. He inhaled her scent deeply, cupping her arms in his hands and drawing her nearer. They worked in tandem to remove Alistair’s own clothing, only breaking away to lift his light leathers over his head, before working at his britches.

Once he was free, Alistair crawled over Maia’s body out of habit, bending her backwards onto the bedroll. She melted beneath his kiss, running her fingers through his sandy hair as she     moaned lightly. The surge of arousal seemed to break him from his trance, and he pulled back slowly, nipping at her bottom lip before they separated.

“I was thinking we could try something… different,” he said hesitantly.

“I… I can do different.”

Alistair drew back to his heels and lifted Maia under her arms almost effortlessly, drawing her to sit on his lap. He delicately slid his hands under the sheer fabric and helped slip it over her head.

“I look forward to seeing you in that again, sometime I  _haven’t_  been without you for almost a week.”

He spun around beneath her and laid himself back, holding her hips tightly in place over his hardening member. His cock danced with excitement as she tugged her arms around her midsection bashfully.

“I don’t… I’m not sure… what to do.”

“This, my dear, is all for you. Move however you want, set your own pace. Use…” Alistair paused to clear his throat, or he feared it would crack with arousal. “Use me to pleasure yourself.”

Maia giggled nervously but leaned in to kiss him on the tip of his nose. As she bent forward, she bucked her hips backwards and down his length, coating it with silky wetness. Alistair gripped her by the hip bones and pulled her towards him as she reached between her legs to ease him into her.

Eyes squeezed shut as he slipped into her tightness with ease, Alistair opened to see Maia staring down at him with a mix of surprise and something else. An urgency and longing he had only seen a fraction of during their other escapades together. She grasped his shoulders and rocked her body up and back down, full breasts brushing tantalizingly along Alistair’s torso. The sensation of her taking control like this — taking him — muddled up his mind with raw passion. He could barely think straight as he watched her, hypnotized, riding him like one of the Cousland family horses.

Out of pure, primal instinct, Alistair gently pushed Maia upright to take in his full length, pounding his own hips upward to hit the spot deep within. She matched his rhythm and bore down before squeezing her own thighs together and rising to his sensitive tip before slamming savagely back down. The sensation seemed to surprise her, and a moan escaped her lips. Rapt with pleasure, she lifted from his shoulders and ran her fingers through her own long, chestnut hair, throwing her head back as her moans turned to frantic whimpers.

It was all Alistair could do to keep himself in control. The shimmering sheen on her bouncing body was set aglow in the lamplight, and he almost felt as if he were having a religious moment.

In an instant, she all but slammed her hands onto Alistair’s chest, staring ahead in unexpected surprise. Nails digging into his torso, her whimpers became frantic, wanting, and he could feel her thighs around him begin to quiver, just like when she —  _Maker, when she was about to finish._

Maia feverishly pumped along Alistair’s length, squeezing him within her as he’d never felt before. Abandoning all control himself, he bucked upwards to meet her every crest. His toes curled as the tightness in his stomach ached for the release he was sure was imminent.

With one final squeak, Maia exploded around him, shivering and holding onto Alistair for support as she rode out her waves of ecstasy. He continued pushing into her, meeting her eyes with hopeful curiosity. Maia nodded thankfully and seemed to will herself to clench tighter, milking him until the tightness in his stomach burst forth in every direction of his body, spilling his seed deep within her. The force of the sensation seemed to trickle against her spot, and one last ravaged squeal of passion escaped from her rosy lips.

Maia collapsed on top of Alistair, burying her head in the crook of his neck. He gently slid out of her, and she sighed with contentment. He thought he should say something in the moment, but when he took a deep breath, she squeezed him in her arms with all her might.

Alistair just closed his eyes, wrapped both arms around her back, and fell asleep with a huge smile on his face.


End file.
